


The Heart's Embrace

by hargrave



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Drabble, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon Fix-It, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 06:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17934563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hargrave/pseuds/hargrave
Summary: Vanitas had been ready to give up. Ventus has other plans.





	The Heart's Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first ever fanfiction. I have a lot of super cool, encouraging friends that have made helped make me feel comfortable posting this so thank you! I love you all!

The first time Ventus hugs him, he freezes. 

Vanitas was ready to accept his fate. Hell, he’s _been_ ready all of this time, waiting for his miserable existence to fizzle out. The day when all of the suffering finally slips away and he can go back to what he was before Xehanort pulled him from Ventus’ heart – Nothing. 

He doesn’t expect Ventus to take matters into his own hands, quite literally. So when warm, strong arms wrap around Vanitas he does the only thing he can think of. He stops. Vanitas has never had another so close to him, the intimacy of it all so very foreign that he doesn’t know what to do. Then, before he can react, it’s over. His other half pulls away and gives him a smile that, in the moment, feels brighter than any star. 

Afterwards it’s all Vanitas can think about. Ventus is so far away and yet he can still feel him, a comforting presence looming in his chest. His fingers grace the rough, scarred skin and underneath there is a twinge. A sensation of something growing when before there was emptiness. As if there is another heart, a pulse that does not belong to him beating in rhythm with his own. 

After so much thought, Vanitas thinks he is prepared the second time Ventus hugs him. Instead he melts into the embrace, a light pat to the blonde's back being the only thing Vanitas manages to do. The warmth in him continues to spread even after they part ways again, ever present as if Ventus is still there holding him. 

He wonders when the next time will be, or if there will even _be_ a next time. Maybe Ventus will realize he is a lost cause; he wouldn’t even be able to blame him. Vanitas had given up on himself so long ago when he came to terms with who, no, _what_ he is. Light will always cast a shadow, just like Vanitas exists as nothing more than a way for Ventus to shine. 

The third time familiar arms wrap around him, Vanitas is so very thankful that Ventus never gave up on him. He returns the gesture, his own limbs feeling awkward and he isn’t quite sure where to put his hands. Vanitas manages somehow and they stay like that, breathing in each other’s presence until the worlds have melted away. All that’s left is them, together again in a way Vanitas had never thought possible, a whole entity split into two separate, equal parts. 

That second pulse begins to line up with his own, barely discernible from one another. By now Vanitas knows it’s Ventus. Whether intentionally or not, a small piece of Ventus’ heart found it’s way inside of him. For the first time since his creation, Vanitas isn’t alone. 

After that, he loses count of the times they hold each other. It’s become something common, and yet each time Vanitas appreciates more than Ventus will ever know. Some days they’re quick, a hug to say goodbye or hello, sometimes it’s sudden bursts of affection. Then there are others that Vanitas breaks down and Ventus keeps him close through the entirety, his touch a surprisingly appropriate balm for fifteen years of nothing but misery. 

Those times eventually become few and far between. The pain isn’t gone, Vanitas has learned that everyone suffers on some level, but it’s easier to manage now. He feels things he had only known through their one-sided connection, the things that Vanitas once loathed Ventus for being able to experience. Ventus _shares_ them with him now, both in person and through the string that continues to tie their hearts together, yet they never truly feel like his own. As if all of these newfound emotions are felt by proxy, as if Vanitas is as incapable of being whole as Xehanort had told him he was. 

But he tries, because Ventus never quit on him, the worry that nothing will ever truly be right remaining in the furthest recesses of his mind. When the floodgate of emotions finally opens up and spills through his heart, Vanitas isn’t prepared for it to be because of Ventus going face first into a lamp post after stumbling over his own feet. 

He laughs. At first it’s the smallest huff of amusement, and then before Vanitas can stop himself he’s doubled over, his hand on his stomach as laughter takes over his whole body. He’s never felt it, the happiness that comes from finding something _truly_ funny, rather than the times when he’d be amused out of pity or spite. Eventually, the laughter dies off, and he attempts to correct himself only to find Ventus staring at him with a mix of awe and irritation. 

“Hey Vanitas?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That’s the first time I’ve really heard you laugh. I like it.” 

Vanitas’s golden eyes widen, his face warming up uncomfortably, and then his features settle just as quickly to restrained delight, “Yeah, me too.”


End file.
